


Submerged

by solar_celeste



Series: Immersion [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Affection, CPR, Drowning, Near Death, Proceed with caution, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 01:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17653367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solar_celeste/pseuds/solar_celeste
Summary: After a rough night on patrol, and a case of the sniffles, Damian falls asleep in the bathtub. Panicking ensues.





	Submerged

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place during Bruce’s ‘death’.

Patrol had been rather unforgiving that night. Harley Quinn managed to find herself wondering Gotham streets, more a nuisance than a problem really, but the whole ordeal meant a lot of chasing.

Which meant a lot of running.

Okay, fine, whatever. Damian was the son of the first Batman, the grandson of the great Ra’s al Ghul, he could handle a little running.

Until a little had turned into an hour and then another and another until Damian was spending more time wheezing than pumping his legs. Grayson had caught and apprehended the harlot without Damian’s assistance (which was NOT disheartening in the slightest, no it wasn’t) and then dragged them both back to the bunker.

A change of clothes as well as a handful of suppressed coughs later and Damian thought he was in the clear. Oh, how very wrong he was.

“ Damian come here a moment.” The ten year old paused in his escape, only five more steps to the elevator and he would have been far away from Grayson’s prying eyes. He turned around, scowling.

“ Surely Grayson, you can see I’m headed somewhere?” He asked, his words biting and harsh.

“ _Now._ ” The Batman’s words hit him like a brick wall and Damian fought a flinch. Dick was _angry_ and Damian’s mind immediately thought to his poor contribution to the nights patrol. So, he took the much wiser path and made his way back to his brother.

Instantly the older man removed the cowl, Batman’s intimidating glare being replaced by his loving brothers soft eyes. It did wonders to sooth Damian’s fear annoyance.

“ Are you feeling okay?” Damian paled, _how had he known?_

Dick had _known,_ because he was the oldest of five and could see the symptoms of a head cold from a mile away. Also, his little brother wasn’t nearly as talented at hiding it as the boy thought he was.

“ I am perfectly fine Grayson, maybe it is you who feels less than stellar?” It was childlike for Damian to deflect like that, and Dick fought a smile.

“ Truth Damian, or no patrol for two weeks. Are you feeling okay?” He thought better than to mention the boys most recent patrol performance unless absolutely necessary. Damian wore a pride that was easily bruised.

“ I am slightly below my usual.” The boy admitted, hanging his head (even if only slightly).

“ Thought so, come on.” Grayson takes his hand and leads him to the elevator, and Damian scoffs because he was literally just going there.

But he hadn’t been planning on the warm bath Grayson runs for him, or the milk and cookies he is promised after. He had only been planning on bed.

The bath feels _so_ much better.

 

***

 

Tim approached the door cautiously. The demon had it out for him, he knew. Tim was seen as a threat, the former and most recent Robin, in need of elimination yada yada yada. And he didn’t _care_ about what Dick had said, he’d rather be wary than lose a limb (or multiple).

He’d contemplated simply returning to the living room and telling Dick he had checked on Damian, and that the boy was fine, when there was an odd noise behind the door. The sound coming from the bathroom was _alarming_ in a way that Tim couldn’t explain. But after he had heard it, he knew he was going to open that door. He just had to know.

“ Damian?” He asked, knocking.

He waited precious moments for a response that didn’t come. Still, a cold shoulder wasn’t even close to unusual for the pair.

“ Dames? Dick said to get ready for bed now.” Still, there was no biting remark, or snarky complaint about being treated like some child. Tim stepped up his game.

“ He said he’s giving Robin back to me.” He gave the younger boy exactly three seconds to respond before he was turning the knob to the bathroom, and barging in.

He didn’t know if he had been expecting to find a pissed off Damian, even if he had a speech prepared for what was acceptable bath and sickness response etiquette, but he hadn’t been ready for what he did see.

A completely empty tub.

Or at least a tub he had thought to be empty until he stepped a yard closer and saw water coated in bubbles.

_And a small, tanned, hand._

Not wasting another second, and screwing all modesty, he flew over to the tub and quickly submerged both his arms.

Feeling clumsily, heart racing, he grasped the small, bony waste of his kid brother and pulled. A little too forcefully for Damian s weight, but it did the job. Damian was now out of the murderous waters and in his brothers protective hold.

“ DICK! ALFRED!” He tore his throat with screams, shouting each name once before assessing the boy now on the floor in front of him.

And fuck, he wasn’t breathing.

Pieces of Tim’s world began to chip away, moments spent snapping and calling his little brother names coming forth in his mind. Times he should have been there for the kid and wasn’t, moments he was mean without reason. The things they didn’t do together. But mostly the things Tim wanted to say and couldn’t. Now he might not _ever_ get the chance.

He had to ignore all that for now. He had to take a skill of Bruces and become and emotionless brick.

Using the training he couldn’t be more glad that he had, he began chest compressions. Before, he had thought it funny the rhythm was meant to be inline with ’Another One Bites the Dust’ now, with his little brothers life on the line, it just seemed sinister.

Then he fucking _breathed_ for the kid.

Dick and Alfred burst in mid make out session, and it would have been funny, if not for the circumstances.

“ Dami!” Dick cried, sinking to the floor on the other side of Damian. There was so much emotion and concern caught in his voice it was _sickening_.

“ Bloody hell, what happened?” Alfred was calm and collected, still concerned, but he was much less of a headless chicken than the younger two.

“ He-e wasn’t answering, I c-came in and he was u-under.” Tim was surprised to find his voice laced with tears, so much for being a brick. He returned to compressions.

“ Tim stop.” It was Dick, he sounded… _relieved_? How could he sound relieved? When the demon brat was _dying_ on the bathroom floor?

“ N-no.” He refused to give up, he had to keep trying, there was still time!

“ Master Tim! I do believe that is enough.” Alfred’s demanding voice halted his movements and Tim fought another onslaught of tears as their family butler covered their youngest member with a towel, only his face remaining unobscured. Still, it was like watching a sheet cover a corpse.

“ Timmy calm down.” Dick had a hand on Tim’s arm now, another around his chin, forcing him to look into the elders eyes. Why the fuck was Dick so at ease?

“ I c-could’v…. n-no-o.” He stammered, tears and sorrow blocking his vision and tangling his speech.

“ Tim, he’s _breathing_.” Immediately, waves of emotion overtake him once more. But these are different. Relief like he’s never felt seems to lift him from the ground, defying all laws of gravity. Happiness and joy, and even that regret from earlier is welcomed by him. He had been so sure, and for once he is so, so glad that he had been wrong.

So Tim smiles, barring teeth because, who would have thought, huh? He really _does_ care about the brat.

Then Damian bolts up, spluttering water, and Tim _laughs_.

He laughs joyous laughter as his heart pieces itself back together.


End file.
